


Of Press Reports and Pie

by thecolourclear (afinch)



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Banter, Canon Compliant, Flirting, Girls Changing The Rules, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-15
Updated: 2006-08-15
Packaged: 2018-11-06 23:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11046840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afinch/pseuds/thecolourclear
Summary: "Are you trying to be infuriating on purpose?""Is it working?""Sadly, I find you more adorable than infuriating.""I don't think that's sad at all.""You wouldn't."Danny let out a surprised laugh, "Did you just accuse me of being vain?"





	Of Press Reports and Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place between ITSOTG pt 2 and The Midterms. By the way, continuity sucks. Only because Sorkin sucks at it. For idealisticnymph (on LJ) for the tww_minis August contest of Andrea. Prompts were: Writer's block. Banter. Flirtation in public.

Not that Danny ever paced when writing a story, but tonight, deeply immersed in the story of who had constitutional power, he paced. It was more worry than anything else. Worry for these people that he actually cared about. Worry for people who were fine, and those who obviously weren't. Josh was fine, he had to keep reassuring himself. Josh was fine, and CJ was fine, and the President was fine, and he had an editor and an article to write.

He knew the White House had screwed up, that he had to report on it, but deep beneath the surface, there was fear in CJ's eyes, and he assumed there was fear in everyone else too. They'd had seconds to react once the bullets started, and Danny can remember, in clear detail, where he was that night, of CJ apologising without really apologising, of a scream followed by gunfire and more screams. 

They had been so focused on getting the President into surgery, on worrying about everyone else, Danny knew if any of them had a sane head that night, the papers would have been signed and the night would have gone off without a hitch. That hadn't been the case though. Someone had decided to inflict terror upon this small group of people that Danny loathed to admit he cared deeply for. It wasn't his fault the American public wanted to hear more about how the White House screwed up. He paced. More articles, more accusations, more screw-ups. 

While the White House tried to pick up the pieces, Danny tried to break them again. 

It was a crisp September day and Andrea was enjoying the weather, taking a nice long walk around the good parts of DC. Not surprisingly, she found herself in front of the White House. With a small shrug she decided going in and seeing Toby and the rest of the gang couldn't be all that bad. Besides, one of them would probably feed her. 

It was Sam who signed her in, and Sam who had ditched her not twenty minutes later. Angry, Andrea stalked over to the briefing room where Toby was rumoured to be. Instead, she found reporters. And one of them a pacing Danny.

"You look like Toby when he's got writers block," she commented, laughing. "Speaking of the brooding writer, have you seen him around?" 

Danny stopped walking for a moment to smile at Andrea Wyatt. "Well," he said slowly. "He was here. Not helping me on my article. Then he left again." 

Andrea sighed and ran her hands through her hair. Figured. Sam had ditched her, Toby was nowhere to be found, CJ had been on the phone yelling at someone, and that left nobody. Deciding she should leave, she politely thanked Danny and stalked out of the building, her pace now far more aggravated than it had been since she decided to come into the building. 

"I do have writer's block," Someone said from behind her and she whipped around, surprised to see Danny standing there. He looked almost sheepish, his hands deep inside his jacket pockets, a small smile on his face. 

Andrea tipped her head and grinned at him, "Do you want to get some coffee?" She wasn't sure why she'd invited Danny to coffee, but he had writer's block and she was fed up with the White House. What better combination of two people sharing coffee could there be?

"Yeah, maybe it'll break my spell," Danny answered, taking two large steps to catch up to her. They walked quietly until they reached the diner, Danny being a gentleman and holding the door open. "You uh, left in a hurry back there," he said, pointing with his thumb back towards the White House. "I didn't scare you off that badly did I?" 

Andrea laughed, "No, no. I think it has to do with being cast off by all the members of Senior Staff I came to see. Most notably Toby. I know he's happy about the bump in the polls, but …" she stretched out on her side of the booth, kicking off her shoes as she did so. 

"Yeah, Toby's like that," Danny agreed, having no idea what he was agreeing to, or what the end of Andrea's sentence was supposed to have been. "That's ok though, they're all avoiding me too." 

"Well, you keep writing rather nasty things about them in public, I'd avoid you too," Andrea quipped back.

Danny looked surprised only for a moment, "Well, if they wouldn't keep messing up and giving my readers something to gobble up, I'm sure I would stop." 

"Are you?" 

Again Danny looked surprised. This time he laughed. "Yes, I'm sure I would stop," he said once he had regained his control. "At least, I'm almost sure that I'm sure that I would stop." 

That made Andrea laughed, and she covered her face with her menu in embarrassment until she could breath normally again. One look at Danny set her off again and she hid behind her menu again. When she'd done it one more time, she slid down the wall, lying all the way down in her booth. She just needed a minute. 

Danny watched her with bewildered amusement, finally stretching out on his booth much as she had done, to face her. "You alright?" he asked under the table, which only set Andrea off in another fit of giggles. "Guess not," he answered for himself and sat back up to wait again. 

She had to sit up. She had to be able to look him in the eye and not laugh. It really hadn't been all that funny, but once she'd started laughing, she couldn't stop. She hadn't laughed in a while and it felt … good. It felt really good to laugh. 

"I'm … I'm sorry," she finally said, pulling herself up so she could rest her arms and head on the table. 

"Don't be," Danny said. "That was highly entertaining on my end. Didn't crack the writer's block, but keep at it, I'm sure you'll do something that'll have me spilling ink about the White House." 

"And what are you having writers block about today?" Andrea asked, playing idly with her silverware. "Perhaps I can help." 

Danny shook his head, "Help with what the White House keeps screwing up on? Most notably, the lack of the 25th …" 

Andrea sighed, "Well, CJ was still shaken about the bullets whizzing past her, Sam was trying to be the sane one, and that never works, Toby was worried about Josh, and David, Josh was …, and everyone else was running around worrying about the President and who had been shooting at them. What more do your readers want from them?"

"They want them to be held to a higher standard," Danny protested. "Which is perfectly understandable!" 

"Because they just got shot at, or because of why they got shot at?" 

"Because they work in the White House – they are the White House!" 

"That's fucking bullshite and you know it!" 

"I liked you better when you laughed at things I said!" 

Andrea laughed at that, "Alright, come up with a non bullshite reason why you should still be writing about this and I'll laugh at you some more." 

"My editor told me to?" 

"Fuck him." 

Danny pouted, "I'm more into feisty redheaded women than fat old editors." 

This caught Andrea by surprise; she sat upright suddenly, "Wait, you what?" At that precise moment, like she was arriving on some cruel cue, the waitress walked over to take their order. Andrea quickly ordered a coffee, a side salad, a cheeseburger, some fries, and probably pie for dessert. Then, grinning at Danny, she added, "He's paying, so stick it all on his tab."

"I'll have what she's having, minus the pickles and add extra tomatoes," Danny said, collecting their menus. "And on the tab is fine." Not that he had a tab at this place, but luckily for him, they accepted Visa. Toby was definitely going to hear about this. And probably laugh at him. 

"You what?" Andrea asked again, her tone more demanding. 

"I … am?" Danny suggested, offering up another impish grin. "Say, couldn't this be considered a date seeing as how I'm paying?" 

"I thought you wanted to date CJ." 

"But, love, you're right here." 

"Go back to your writer's block." 

Danny shook his head, "Naw, all cleared. I’m going to write about Congresswomen who are too friendly with the incompetent White House instead. Or maybe I'll write about fucking my editor. All the juicy details. Should be a sensation." 

"Are you trying to be infuriating on purpose?" 

"Is it working?" 

"Sadly, I find you more adorable than infuriating." 

"I don't think that's sad at all." 

"You wouldn't." 

Danny let out a surprised laugh, "Did you just accuse me of being vain?" 

Andrea gave a light gasp and clasped both her hands over her chest. "Now, Daniel," she said in a faux Southern accent. "I would never do such a thing as that! And I am offended that you would think so!" 

"Glad to know someone's getting some entertainment out of this," Danny pouted, crossing his arms across her chest so he could better sulk. 

"Aw … don't do that," Andrea said, giggling as she reached across the table and tugged at Danny's arms. "Come on now, be nice. Make me laugh. I like boys who make me laugh." 

"Ok," Danny reluctantly agreed. "I suppose I can try that. While we wait for our coffee. What kind of joint did you bring us to anyway?" 

"A bad one," Andrea nodded. "A very bad one." 

"Does Toby ever go all writerish on you and tell you what's wrong with using very?" Danny suddenly asked.

Andrea rolled her eyes, "All the time. All the bloody time." 

"Ok, so I should skip doing that then?" 

"That would be nice." 

"Very nice or just nice?" 

"Extremely nice." 

"That wasn't an option." 

"I made it one." 

"I didn't know you were allowed to do that." 

"Hey look coffee!" Andrea exclaimed loudly as the waitress walked over with two steaming cups. 

"Cheater," Danny muttered under his breath, gratefully taking the coffee cup so he could mock glare at Andrea. 

"Aw, darling, you have to cheat to win," Andrea said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and giving him a devilish look. 

"That work for you and Toby?" 

"Ok, now you're just being infuriating."

"Would calling you Andi make me less infuriating?" 

"Probably … not." 

"Andi it is then." 

"Don't you have a story to go write?" 

"Oh, I'm getting all the information for it right now." 

"You like me, don't you." It came out as a statement, not a question.

"Who doesn’t?" Danny came back with quickly, taking the opportunity to finish his cup of coffee and glance around for the waitress. She wasn't in sight, however and Danny slumped in his seat. 

"Would you go on a date with me?" 

"This doesn't count?" 

Andrea thought for a moment, and shook her head, "No." 

"You're not doing this to piss off Toby are you?" 

"Daniel, Toby would be upset if he knew we were here now," Andrea laughed. "One, because you're a reporter, two, because you're paying, and three, because he's Toby." 

"I'm not sure I'm ready to die yet," Danny said, trying to hide his smile but failing. "So we'll just have to cram everything in and make sure this is the best date ever. And Toby never has to find out." 

"What about getting laid?" Andrea asked innocently. 

"Andi," Danny said patiently. "What sort of man do you think I am? Unless this is a one night stand, there is no laying on the first date." 

Andrea nodded, "Well, good. I can respect that." 

"Now … topics of conversation? Or should we just wing it like we have been?" Danny asked, pulling out his small notepad and flipping it open. "I should write them down too, in case I forget. Wouldn't want to ruin the date." 

"No, because writing them down won't ruin it at all," Andrea smirked. "Let's talk about what you're going to write about." 

"You're really attracted to the writer types aren't you?" Danny countered. 

"I'm just not sure I want to be on a date with someone who is continually writing bad things about the White House. And the people I care about." Andrea said, her tone light, but her eyes hard. 

"You think just caring about them is hard, try writing about them and caring about them at the same time." 

"You could just stop writing about them." 

"I could, but then I'd be out of a job." 

"You like your job that much?" 

"Yes, I do. It's a very nice job." 

"Don't use very, it's trite." 

"Extremely. Better?"

"Really, Daniel, what are you going to write about?" Andrea asked, propping her head up in her hands, elbows on the table. 

Danny looked away, "Andi …" 

"You're ridiculous!" 

"What do you want me to do!" 

"You could start by telling your readers they're idiots!" 

"I don't think I'd be able to keep my extremely nice job that way!" 

"So what?" Andrea snarled. "No really, Danny, so what? You'd rather sell yourself out for a paycheck and your name in print than being the better person?"

"It's not that simple." 

"Why not?" 

"Because they keep treating the general public like they're stupid for actually wanting their government to work," Danny explained. "And then they get mad when the public gets mad at them for legitimate reasons." 

"The general public holds them to a standard that's too high." 

"Unfortunately, that's not my problem." 

"You could make it one." 

"Can't we go back to light, fluffy, dating conversation?" 

"No." 

"Did you bring me out here to yell at me?" 

"You're the one that followed me outside!" 

"I thought I scared you off!" Danny protested. "And I didn't mean to! I was coming to apologise, then you invited me for coffee and ran up the tab to be mean!" 

Andrea smiled, "Yes I did, didn't I?" 

"Light fluffy first date conversation?" 

"Only if you –" 

"I'll talk to my editor." 

Andrea grinned, "Well, now that was easy. Oh, look, food. And they have chocolate pie, pecan pie, and apple pie." 

"They didn't hold the pickles or give me extra tomatoes. If I stay for pie … I want something back." 

"I thought you didn't lay someone on the first date." 

"Weren't we cramming as much as possible into this one?" 

"Toby," Andrea reminded him. 

Danny winced, "Right. Don't want to die." 

"And I don't want Toby to go to prison." 

"Right, that would be bad too." 

"You'll seriously talk to your editor?" 

"Hey …" Danny frowned. "Rapid changes in topic are not allowed." 

Andrea rolled her eyes, "Yes, Toby in prison would be bad too. And just for that, if you had any hint or hope of getting laid tonight … you won't be coming upstairs when you drive me home." 

Danny pointed back towards the White House, "I left my car over there. So while you're eating your pie, I'll have to go fetch it." 

"And leave a woman alone?" 

"Not like I'm getting laid." 

"This is true. But still. I thought you were a gentleman." 

Danny hit his head on the table in exasperation, "You women are so impossible." 

"Want me to give you some advice so you and CJ can finally … you know?" Andrea bit off half her fry and waved the other half in the air to accent her point as she waited for Danny to reply. 

"No. No, no, no. And no." 

"Why ever not?" 

"Last time someone gave me advice on CJ, I bought her a goldfish." 

"Gail," Andrea nodded. "She's very fond of it." 

"You all hold parties and laugh at me don't you?" 

"They probably do, I'm never invited." 

"You sure I won't get laid at the end of this? We understand each other, after all. Always being left out …" 

Andrea laughed, "I don’t think so." 

"You were at least attracted to me a little, right?" Danny asked, a slight pout on his face. 

Andrea thought for a momen, then leaned over and gave Danny a quick peck on the lips, "Maybe a little." 

Danny looked surprised.

"Well?" Andrea prompted.

"If I say I like you, do I get to kiss you too?"

"When you take me home you can give me a long, deep, passionate kiss. Still won't get you past the door, but you can do it."

"Positive there'll be no sex?" 

"Danny!" 

"Well, I should at least get another kiss to tide me over." 

"I don't think I'm inclined." 

"You're going to miss out on a really passionate kiss at your door." 

"I think I can handle it." 

"Oh, but can you?" 

"Damn you, Daniel!" Andrea leaned over and kissed him again, longer this time. After an appreciative whoop from a young man not very far into his twenties, who was sitting behind her, Andrea pulled away.

Danny grinned, "You're hot when you're feisty and calling me Daniel and kissing me and such." 

"Shut up or I won't do it again."

"I'm just eating here," Danny said quietly, digging into his pickle full, extra tomato free cheeseburger with a relish. 

"Pie?" Andrea asked when they had both finished. 

"Oh, am I allowed to talk?" 

Andrea waved her fork at him, "That's going to cost you some front porch kissing time." 

Danny pouted, "That's not fair! You changed the rules in there somewhere!" 

"I'm allowed." 

"This is true. Pie?" 

Andrea nodded, "I'll even let you pick." 

Well, with an offer like that, how could Danny refuse? He writers block long forgotten, Danny focused on informing Andrea of the pros and cons of each version of pie, adding ridiculous commentary as he did. Perhaps he would not ditch her when he went to get his car – perhaps it would buy him more front porch kissing time. 

Andrea watched him with a small smile on her face, laughing at all the appropriate times and agreeing with everything he said. When he ordered pecan pie for the both of them, she heartily agreed it had been the best choice.

Until she tasted it, that was. 

"I brought you to a terrible joint." 

"Horrid." 

"The worst." 

"It can never happen again." 

"Good thing this is the first and last date." 

"Rig – wait. It is? For sure?" 

"Unless you want to create my babies." 

Danny pouted, "I want to create CJ's babies." 

"Yeah … in that case …" 

"First and last date." 

"Right." 

"I'm glad we agree." 

"Me too." Only she didn't sound so convinced. "Well, then, I suppose you should pay and we should find your car." 

"What if Toby sees us?" 

"Just tell him you're interviewing me for a story." 

"I could really do that, you know," Danny offered, pulling out his trusted pad of paper.

"I think that's quite alright." 

"If you insist …" 

"Car. Yours. Home. Let's go," Andrea stood and strode for the door, not even checking to see if Daniel was behind her. 

"Hey, I have to pay the bill!" Danny protested, but their waitress picked that moment to reappear and inform Danny that it really could go on his tab. He shrugged and stuffed his wallet back in his pocket, running to catch up to Andrea, "Stop … cheating." 

She stopped and patted his shoulder gently, "There, there, Daniel. Besides, cheating's fun." 

"For you!" 

"Is this your car?" she peered at the black Dodge, running her hands all over it before turning back to Daniel, triumphant. "I like it!" 

He leaned over and pecked her on the cheek, "Good. Get inside and give me directions." 

Half an hour later, they found themselves outside Andrea's apartment in Maryland. Danny looked disgruntled. Andrea just laughed, "Daniel, where did you want me to live?" 

"In DC! I had to fill up with gas and pay a ridiculous amount and I'm not sure you didn't plan that!" 

"Aww … you are so cute when you do that, come here," Andrea beckoned, pulling on his tie and leading up the steps. "Thanks for giving me a ride home," she whispered, her lips right against his ear. 

"Thanks for getting me out of the White House," he murmured. "And you know … all that boring stuff." 

"Mmmhmm," she agreed, pulling his face down towards hers. "All that boring stuff …" 

She wouldn't complain when the kissing session had her back against the door and Daniel fumbling with her keys to get the lock open. She wouldn't complain when the lock was finally open and Daniel had enough sense to pocket the keys before opening the door and ushering her inside. 

She wouldn't complain as the door clicked shut and she led Daniel to her bedroom, clicking that door shut as well.


End file.
